


Whatever Tomorrow Brings, I'll Be There

by brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Flangst?, I Don't Even Know, M/M, fluff x angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How I kind of hope that scene we all can't stop talking about will go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Tomorrow Brings, I'll Be There

It was over. All of it. His dreams of being in the army had been shattered by a handful of stupid decisions. The naive hope that he and Monica had nothing in common had dissipated in the face of his siblings’ always cautious glances. And Mickey...

Jesus Christ, Mickey.

Thinking back to that moment when he’d ended things, Ian wanted to hold onto the numbness that had descended on him when he’d told Mickey he couldn’t do this anymore. As soon as Mickey had said the words, the words Ian had been dying to hear for so goddamn long, he’d known he couldn’t keep on doing this. Ian couldn’t keep putting Mickey through the shit that seemed to follow the Gallaghers wherever they went.

“I love you,” Mickey had told him. “Ian, I love—”

“Don’t. Please, Mick, I can’t...” He’d struggled to speak through the lump in his throat. “I can’t do this right now.”

A brief silence.

“Wait, what’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” Mickey’s face had fallen; he’d taken a step back, and was staring at Ian in confusion. Ian could see it in his eyes: the hope was gone.

Guilt ripped through Ian, but he’d forced himself to continue.

“You shouldn’t have to... to put up with me while I’m—” Ian paused to take a deep breath. “You deserve better.”

“Ian, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I do... Bye, Mick.”

Now Ian was standing in his room empty room, and it was all hitting him at once. Everything was fucked. After all he’d worked for, after all he’d given up, he was now left with nothing. Ian stared at the military posters that were still up above his bed; a mocking reminder of all he’d wanted. With a yell of frustration, Ian began to tear the posters from the wall, shredding them as he tossed them to the side. He didn’t know when it happened, but his yells soon morphed into sobs.

Gasping for breath, Ian turned away from his now blank wall and his bed that was now littered with scraps of paper. Ian started when he found Mickey standing in the doorway. Mickey was just staring at him, silent tears streaming down his face.

“What-what’re you doing here?” Ian choked out. The humiliation of having Mickey seeing him like this, watching him as he broke down, made Ian angrier than it should’ve. “I told you we’re over. Now get the fuck out!”

Roughly scrubbing at his face, Mickey took a step into the bedroom.

“You’re full of shit, you know that?” Mickey didn’t give Ian the chance to answer. “You want all these grand fuckin’ gestures. ‘ _Punch me in the face, Mick, so I can feel!’_ Or how ‘bout, ‘ _come out to your fuckin’ dad, prove you care!’_ But it’s okay for you to pussy out?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Ian snapped back.

“No? I think you think it’s gonna be too hard, so you just walk away ‘cause you’re afraid to fuckin’ try! We’re supposed to take care of each other.” By now, Mickey was standing right in front of him, so close that if Ian took one step forward, he’d be in the circle of Mickey’s arms.

He wanted to. So badly. Instead he whispered, “Mick, please... just go.”

“Fuck that!” Mickey yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet room. “I love you, you fuckin’ asshole, and I ain’t leavin’!”  

Closing his eyes, and lowering his head, Ian wanted so desperately to believe him. Mickey reached out to pull Ian into his body, and all resistance crumbled. He didn’t have the strength to keep pushing Mickey away. Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, Ian clutched Mickey to him; no more tears now, instead his body shook as the relief swamped him. Legs weak, Ian sank down onto the floor.

And, without hesitation, Mickey followed him down, never loosening his hold on Ian.

“I got you, okay? I promise, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Mickey murmured in his ear.

“I know.”

Neither of them moved for a long while.


End file.
